


Take a Breath

by DarthSuki



Category: RWBY
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, F/M, First Time Blow Jobs, Gentleness, M/M, Oral Sex, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 15:03:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16663060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthSuki/pseuds/DarthSuki
Summary: Tyrian is very used togivingwhen it comes to pleasure, but he's hardly used toreceiving. You take it upon yourself to change this and come to learn that he is quite receptive to a little bit of oral attention.





	Take a Breath

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a request on my RWBY writing blog. If you would like to submit a request or check out my other related work, [go check it out here!](https://rwbywritings.tumblr.com/)

It was difficult enough to get him to sit still, let alone undressed. You weren’t quite sure what the issue was at first, trying to listen through the man’s half-hearted babbling. As you managed to get Tyrian to finally sit down on a chair, your hands sliding off his shirt, the reason behind his hesitation started to clear up.

“Wouldn’t you want  _me_  to take care of you?” Tyrian offered, his hands on your hips, fingers subtly looking to curl around the hem of your pants. “That would be much more fun anyway.”

He tried to turn the moment around, tried to press gentle kisses against your throat in an attempt to distract you, but it didn’t work–You pressed a hand to the man’s chest and pressed him back in a firm, unwavering motion.

“No,” is all you could say at first, lips drawn in a smile as the weight of the situation came over you. “I want to take care of  _you,_ Ty. Just relax, alright?”

The man opened his mouth to refute your words, but it didn’t take much to silence them outright. Your lips to his, a gentle kiss, is all that you needed to work your hands under his loose shirt and push it over his shoulders and off his body. It didn’t take too much longer to get the rest of him undressed. A kiss, a whisper of encouragement, a careful press of your fingertips and palms against his warm skin–it was all it took to get Tyrian to accept the simple pleasure.

It wasn’t the first time you’d done this, oh no, but it was undoubtedly the first time you’d ever done it without any foreseeable return of pleasure. It was in this fact alone that Tyrian was perturbed, obviously nervous to be the sole receiver of the pleasure between you two, even if it was for a short time. The little words, moans and flush over the man’s cheeks were nothing short of lovely when you knew deep down that nobody had ever given him such unconditional love before.

In all of what felt like only a few breaths, you had Tyrian laying down on the bed, stripped down and trying desperately not to meet your eyes with him. It was a certain shift in demeanor from what you were used to of him, but it was one you took heart in knowing the sight was only for you.

He only let himself feel vulnerable around you.

You drank up the sight for a few moments before climbing over the man’s body, situating yourself gently between his legs and leaning down to press a kiss to his lips.

“Good?” You asked, pulling back to see him.

Tyrian tried to answer, his lips moving but no words coming out. He tried again. His expression turned tense, almost worried, but he eventually just shut his eyes and nodded in fervent consent–he wanted it, it was just hard to  _let_  himself want it.

To be a bit selfish. To take. To have you between his legs and making him gasp out your name than the other way around.

After giving the man a few seconds to collect himself, you pressed your face down so your lips could meet the hot flesh of his throat. One kiss after another lavished his skin, soothing and sweet, continuing until you felt Tyrian’s breathing even out a touch more. When you felt that he was relaxed, you reached a free hand up and gently untied the ribbon in his carefully-braided hair and let it all loosen. Let your hands gently drag through his soft, long black hair, let those same fingers drag down what you could get of his scalp, the back of his neck.

Tyrian let out a soft, wavering sigh of pleasure what was such a simple touch.

“Breathe,” You whispered into his skin, lips now working down to the man’s chest. “It’s alright. I’ve got you.”

You could hear Tyrian’s nod of understanding from the sound of shifting against the pillows. Kisses continued over his warm skin, over every little scar you could find that textured his chest, down to his upper belly. They were uncountable in number, some of them nearly invisible until your lips caressed them over, and you knew not the story for all of them. These were scars that Tyrian didn’t often like talking about, but they seemed sensitive enough to the press of your lips, then fingertips, that Tyrian let out one soft gasp after another.

You moved down his body in a slow, careful motion. Since you were still fully-clothed, every shift of your body brushed the fabric against his cock, making him shiver and shake–you felt the gentle ghosting of the man’s hands almost grab for you, but pull back at the last moment.

Slowly. The key was being deliberate and gentle, letting the man find the edges of his comfort zone.

You continued to move without care for the small drops of wetness soaking into the front of your shirt, and only stopped when your lips were level with the tip of his throbbing heat.

“Good,” You said against him, kissing the hot, twitching flesh in front of your lips. “Very good, Ty.”

From there, it only took a little shifting of your body to position yourself just right. Arms hooked under his thighs, his legs coming over your shoulders and ankles crossing against your back. He feels tense, but you try to soothe him by rubbing small circles into his hips.

Since Tyrian so often shied away from letting you pleasure him so, you were still learning about all of the little things he enjoyed. The way he liked to be touched, the pace he liked to go–all of it was a bit of a mystery to you. You started slowly, letting your lips wrap around the tip of his cock tongue gently playing against the head and get a feel for how he’d react.

It was a whimper, dripping sweetly from his lips, legs tensing up around you. 

You felt compelled to press deeper, taking in more of his cock into your mouth and letting your tongue hug against the underside. Inch after inch, slow for the sake of your partner rather than yourself.

Tyrian started to whine, body tensing and shaking more with every inch you took of him. His hands moved, trying to find something to grab and, eventually started wringing over one another over his chest.

Your focus on the man’s cock wavered, only slightly, when you took the moment to reach up and blindly grab Tyrian’s hands and pull them towards your head.

_Grab my hair._

It was unspoken, but nevertheless an obvious command–or at least, Tyrian seemed to treat it like one, his hands quickly scrabbling for purchase. He held on loosely, almost as if he was unsure what to do–but a gentle suck over his cock seemed to encourage him on well enough.

And that’s when you settled into a gentle pace, dropping your head deeper with every breath and pressing your tongue up against him all the while. Your hands continued to rub against his hips, and only after an accidental shift of his hips pressing himself deeper in your mouth did Tyrian realize that he could actually  _thrust_.

The motions were small, little more than sharp, tiny twitches at first. As the heat grew, as Tyrian grew confident, he started to move in earnest and eventually worked into a desperate cycle of thrusts up into your mouth. It wasn’t hard to keep control over everything–with your hands on his hips, all it took was to hold him still to get your bearings, to take a quick breath through your nose.

All the while, a symphony of whines, whimpers and sobs surrounded you. His lips shaped over your name over and over again, the noise sounding so reverant and desperate.

“More,” The man pleaded. “Moremoremoreplease.”

Though he was receiving the pleasure, Tyrian was far from in control, pleasure spiraling down into a whirlpool that he could only take–it was too much to do more than that. His hands were tight in your hair, pulling rather than pushing you down over him.

He was so desperate for more, to be  _deeper_. You could feel his cock twitching against your tongue as he came closer and closer to orgasm, his hips shaking and body so tense as it moved against the bed. The sounds were absolutely delicious, a perfect song of pleasure that you savored for a few moments until an idea popped into your head.

You pulled off of Tyrian’s cock and licked your lips of spit and salty precum.

“Tyrian,” Your voice sounded as sultry as you felt. “Do you want to feel even better?”

After the initial disappointment from the loss of the hot pleasure, Tyrian’s head was nodding frantically. He was so pliable, listening to each and every word you had for him–it didn’t take very long to get him into the position you wanted, the one you were so curious to see how he’d react.

You moved to lay down where he had been, then gestured for Tyrian to straddle himself over your chest. He looked hesitant for a few moments, but a little nudging and sweet words were enough to convince him. As he settled over you and your hands grabbed his hips to pull him closer to your face, he finally seemed to understand the reason for the shift in position.

With how you lay, partially sat-up, it was easy for his cock to slide back into your mouth and, now, he could fuck your face.

Eager hands found their place in your hair once more, only now with a level of excitement that outweighed the man’s nervousness. Before you could even give him a gentle nudge to start, Tyrian was already thrusting against your face, cock sliding down your throat in hard, deep motions. You still had some minor control with your hands on his hips, but most of it had been relinquished to your lover–and he relished in it, pleasure having saturated what was once nervousness.

And oh, how he sang.

His hips bucked against you, seeking out the pleasure you offered in the form of your hot, tight throat around his dick. He shivered against you as he moved, sharp little rabbit-thrusts working in tandem with the sound of his voice as it lavished the room in hot need.

He raced towards his end, now fully in control of it, and barely gave you a moment’s warning when he came quite suddenly in your mouth. It was all you could do to drink down the hot liquid he spilled against your tongue and let him fuck through every hard wave of euphoria that moved through him.

Your name was a mantra on his lips. It was a prayer, reverent and loving and desperate in all the same breath. He wanted so much and had it all, sobbing through the pleasure until he was barely thrusting his hips and his cock was softening against your tongue. 

Only then did he pull out, your hands quick to guide him down onto the bed beside you as best they could. Tyrian looked exhausted; golden eyes half-lidded, face and body completely flush with the lovely afterglow of sex. He  _looked_  so beautifully fucked.

Though sore, throat raw and lips hurting from the roughness, you couldn’t help but smile and draw the man into your arms, whispering sweet little things all the while.


End file.
